


something of your own

by IceImagines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Hair care, Lots of kissing, That's it that's the plot, Tooth Rotting Fluff, casual affection, hair washing cutting brushing the whole deal, happiest fic i've written in my whole life, not even a trace of angst in this, short and sweet, slightly awkward conversations depending on how you view it but it's always sweet, sombra cares a lot about all of widow's hair, talon is a dick to widow's hair, they love each other a lot y'all, widow has a lot of hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines
Summary: talon does not equip its assets with the appropriate means to care for hair as long as widowmaker's, and sombra is having none of it.





	something of your own

**Author's Note:**

> this was mostly a writing excercise to get myself back into writing, because i've got a very big project coming up soon that i will be very busy with. i've had some trouble getting any writing done in recent times, so i just wanted to do something cute and fluffy to get back into the hang of things and make myself feel good. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this as much as i did : )

„Widow?“

„Hm?

Widowmaker felt Sombra trail her fingers lightly along the side of her head. The quiet sound of the other woman‘s breathing was the only thing that broke the silence in the room, the air perfectly still even with the window half opened. It was just under thirty degrees outside. Once upon a time, it might have bothered Widow, but now, the warmth just felt pleasant on her frigid skin. 

„How exactly do you take care of your hair?“

She paused for a moment. The question came rather unexpected. 

„Not very... elaborately, I suppose.“

Sombra clicked her tongue, fingers beginning to play a little with the black strands. 

„ _Aclara?_ “ 

„Well...“ She thought about it briefly. „Talon really only supplies assets with the means for very basic hygiene. So I wash it with the same shampoo everyone else gets, and that has to do.“ She turned her head slightly to muffle a yawn in the pillow.

„That‘s it?“ Sombra sounded a mixture of astounded and appalled. „No conditioner? Oils? Deep treatments? Anything?“ 

„ _Rien du tout._ “

She heard a groan escape Sombra‘s lips. „Oh my god. We _have_ to do something.“

„Why? Is there something wrong with my hair?“ 

„ _Princesa_ , your hair is beautiful, and that‘s why it deserves better than that.“

Widow felt Sombra run her fingers through the length of it, or at least as much as she could reach.

„I mean, how long is that? Like, a meter and a half?“

„I don‘t know. I haven‘t measured it.“ 

„Either way, it‘s _really_ fucking long, and hair that long needs special care. Period.“ 

Widow craned her neck a little to steal a glance at Sombra‘s face. She could see the gears already beginning to turn behind her forehead.

„What exactly are you planning?“ 

„I‘m planning to save at least a decade‘s worth of hair growth, don‘t sound so offended.“ 

Widow rolled her eyes and leaned up to press a kiss to Sombra‘s lips. „Do what you must, _chérie._ “ 

She could feel the hacker‘s devious smile against her mouth.

\----------------

When Sombra appeared on her doorstep a week later, arms full of bottles and little jars with flowery sounding label stickers on them and a look of determination on her face, Widow realized, much belatedly, that she was serious about this. She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but she couldn‘t tear her eyes away from the small containers. She recognized some of the brand names on them, although she hadn‘t read or thought of them in many years. Unconsciously, she raised a hand and ran it through what of her ponytail was falling over her shoulder. The tips of the shortest partitions brushed against her stomach. The longest ones almost touched her knees, even tied back like this.

She twirled a black strand around her finger, looking down at it. It _was_ a little dull, and now that she thought about it, she didn‘t think her hair had always felt this strawy. 

When she glanced back to Sombra, a wide grin had spread across her face. 

„Knew you‘d bite.“ 

She pushed past her, kissing her on the cheek with a chuckle. Widow shook her head and followed her to the bathroom. 

She sat on the edge of the bathtub while Sombra flitted around, putting down and arranging the various products she had brought with her, rummaging through the drawers beneath the sink, and further explaining what exactly she was hoping to achieve. 

„You have hair down way past your ass, and it hasn‘t been cut in almost ten years, right?“

„Evidently.“

„You also barely eat and live mostly off of injections that no one really knows the contents of.“

That was also correct, much to Widow‘s chagrin. But O‘Deorain insisted, and nobody here dared to question her orders when it came to her masterpiece, her prized project. The thought might have spoiled Widow‘s mood if not for the enthusiasm with which Sombra continued. It was infectious in an odd way. 

„And you haven‘t used anything other than the most basic shampoo on it in the same ten years.“ She shook her head, looking almost offended. „You should be glad your hair hasn‘t completely fallen off yet, araña.“

„Don‘t you think you might be exaggerating a little?“ 

Sombra gave her a brilliant smile. „I never exaggerate.“ 

„That is _blatantly_ untrue.“ 

Sombra paid her no mind, instead carefully selecting one out of at least five different bottles of shampoo that she had arranged on the edge of the sink, and presenting it to Widow like it was an award of some kind. 

„I am not letting you treat your hair like that any longer. We‘re starting with a deep treatment today, and if you let me, I should really trim at least the tips a little.“ She reached out and snatched a strand of hair up, holding it in front of Widow‘s eyes. „I‘m pretty sure there‘s split ends in there somewhere.“ 

Widow tilted her head and tried to decide whether or not she disliked Sombra‘s plan. The trimming part did put her a little on edge, but she wasn‘t exactly sure why. It wasn‘t like she had consciously decided to let her hair grow out this long. But it had been a piece of consistency over the past years, and she didn‘t want to give that up, absurd as it sounded even to her. 

Sombra seemed to notice the skeptical look on her face. „Don‘t worry, I won‘t cut off a lot. Ten centimeters, no more than that. You‘ll barely notice with hair that long.“ 

Widow relented. „Alright... but be careful.“

Sombra beamed. „Of course.“ 

She stood on her tiptoes to remove the shower head from its holder. 

„Let‘s get to work. Don‘t worry, you can thank me later.“

\----------------

Maybe half an hour later, Widow was sitting comfortably on a chair they had dragged into the bathroom, listening to Sombra hum an indiscernible little tune to herself as she cut Widow‘s hair. It had taken quite a while to even wash it and brush the entirely length of it until it was adequately free of knots, and normally Widow might have found it tiresome, but it seemed like much less of a chore with Sombra helping her, brushing through the mass of inky black strands with a care like they were spun from actual silk. Widow didn‘t think she had ever seen her this focused, except when she was working with a computer, fingers flying across a virtual keyboard with uncanny speed and precision, eyes glued to a violet screen covered in ciphers that meant nothing to Widow and seemed to hold the secrets of the universe for Sombra. It fascinated her, it always had.

Now, it made this affair all the more pleasant. There was the occasional slight tug on her scalp, but Widow had withstood much worse than that, and Sombra was careful. It was obvious that she knew what she was doing. There seemed to be a specific purpose behind each snap of the scissors, each tiny portion of hair that fell to the ground. 

„ _Chérie?_ “

Sombra ceased her soft humming. 

„Yeah?“

„You‘ve done this before, haven‘t you?“

„Sure.“ Snap. „I‘ve been doing my own hair more or less my whole life.“ Snap. „Not a lot of hairdressers left in Dorado after the Crisis, even less ones who‘d style a mohawk for a fifteen year old.“ Another snap, accompanied by a chuckle. Widow turned her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

„You had a mohawk when you were fifteen?“ 

Sombra tapped the side of her head to get her to turn it back. „Of course. It was hot pink, pretty cool. Had to shave it all off a while later, though. Box bleach and dye ruined it.“ 

„Is that why you‘re so sensitive about this?“ 

„No.“

A few seconds of pointed silence. Widow didn‘t need to look at her again to get her point across, and was rewarded with a low huff shortly after. 

„Okay, maybe.“

Widow allowed herself a small smile. 

„I thought so.“ 

„Stop being so smug“, Sombra grumbled. „It‘s not a big deal. I just used to have a lot of hair when I was a kid and I didn‘t treat it very well-“

„I do believe you had other things to worry about at the time.“ 

„I know. Doesn‘t mean I have to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes, _araña._ “

That seemed like an unfair comparison, but Widow bit back a comment. Sombra‘s tone had shifted ever-so-slightly, and Widow couldn‘t pinpoint the difference, but it felt like she had hit a nerve unconsciously. And she didn‘t want to ruin this moment. It was surprising even to her how much she was enjoying all of this, skeptical as she had initially been. 

So she remained silent while Sombra finished up trimming her hair, until she eventually put the scissors aside and reached around Widow to pull away the towel around her shoulders that was supposed to protect her clothes from stray hair. As she did, Widow caught her wrist and tugged her down to her, close enough to press a soft kiss to her cheek. 

„ _Merci_ “, she murmured against her skin. Sombra smiled, stepped around the chair and cupped her face in her hands to lean down and give her a proper kiss. 

„Pleasure was all mine.“

\----------------

It took a while, but there was progress. After several weeks of silicone free shampoo, oils of what seemed like dozens of different kinds, creams and whatever else Sombra would show up at Widow‘s doorstep with, one morning Widow noticed the way the light caught in her hair, and that yes, it was definitely shinier than it had been before. After that, the changes became obvious very soon. The dull dark color her hair had been before gave way to a shimmering deep black with an ever-so-slight blue sheen. Detangling it no longer took half an hour. Whether she had it tied back or left it falling loose around her shoulders, it seemed to finally do what she wanted, instead of sticking off in odd directions and refusing to let her smooth it back down.

It was nice. Very nice, actually. 

As was a habit Sombra developed: Every night before Widow went to sleep, she would sit down with her on the bed, soft-bristled hairbrush in hand, and spend an hour or longer brushing the black tresses over and over and over again, until they were soft and shiny, at which point Sombra would tuck the strands at the front behind her ear, lean forward and press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. That was the signal that she was finished. Sometimes they talked while Sombra worked, sometimes they just enjoyed the comfortable silence. Either way, Widow learned to love this part of the day maybe more than any other. It felt good to have a part of her routine that was hers, that Talon hadn‘t decided on for her. 

She told Sombra as much one evening, breaking the silence in the room that was otherwise disturbed only by the quiet rustling of the brush as it was dragged through her hair. She was sitting with her back to Sombra, but she could hear the smile in her voice when she responded. 

„Then my mission was successful.“ 

„A mission? Is that what I am to you?“ Widow‘s tone was light, teasing, but Sombra seemed to take her words to heart. 

„Of course not.“ She bent her head down for a moment, lips brushing Widow‘s bare shoulder. „You don‘t really think that little of me, do you?“ 

Widow didn‘t reply, distracted by the tingling feeling where Sombra had touched her skin. 

A soft sigh escaped her lips. „ _Chérie_... why are you doing all this?“ 

The brushing motion stopped. Sombra took a few moments to answer, seemingly unsure of how to react. 

„I... I‘m sorry, do you want me to- is this okay?“ She sounded so insecure. Widow wasn‘t to that tone from her. 

„No, no, I like it.“ She bit her lip, trying to find the right words. „Keep going, please?“ 

After a moment, the brushing resumed, though it seemed more hesitant somehow than before. Widow let out a small puff of air. „I would simply like to understand. This doesn‘t benefit you in any way. Yet you put so much work into it.“ 

Faintly, she felt Sombra trailing her fingers through Widow‘s hair. „I don‘t know. I guess I just wanted you to have something... something that was your own. And maybe to prove that you‘re not limited to what Talon wants for you, you know? You can do whatever you want. They can‘t stop you.“

Widow chuckled. „You know that they could very well stop me.“

„Not while I‘m here, they can‘t.“ 

Widow turned around on the bed so she was facing Sombra. She reached out and carefully tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from Sombra‘s ponytail behind her ear. 

„And how much longer will you be here?“ 

Sombra turned her head to kiss her palm. „As long as you want me to.“

Widow searched her face for a hint of her usual teasing nonchalance, a spark of mischief in her dark blue eyes, but there was nothing there. She was dead serious. The realization made something warm bloom in Widow‘s chest and a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. 

Her hand still cupping Sombra‘s face, she leaned in and kissed her, deep and slow. Sombra responded in earnest, grasping Widow‘s shoulders and shuffling about on the bed until she was sitting comfortably in the sniper‘s lap, chest pressed against chest. Faintly, Widow could feel her heartbeat even through the layers of fabric separating them. 

Eventually they broke apart for air, Sombra‘s breath hot on Widow‘s lips. 

„That‘s good to hear“, Widow murmured, „because I would regret to see you go anytime soon, _chérie_.“

She felt Sombra‘s grin more than she saw it. „Don‘t worry. I‘m not going anywhere just yet.“

\----------------

Akande, of all people, seemed to notice the change a few days later, during a mission briefing. He stopped Widowmaker on her way out of the room.

„Lacroix, did something happen to your hair?“ There was a frown in his voice, though Widow wasn‘t entirely sure whether he was irritated or just confused. She couldn‘t bring herself to care. Smiling quietly to herself, she ran her hand through her hair, falling loosely around her shoulders, to push it out of her face. 

„Oh, nothing“, she responded, already moving towards the door. „Nothing at all.“

**Author's Note:**

> translations: 
> 
> "aclara" - "explain" 
> 
> "rien du tout" - "nothing at all" 
> 
> "merci" - thank you


End file.
